What You Feel
by RaB
Summary: This is just a ficlet that came to me with complete randomness... Takes place between "Gone" and "DMP": Buffy goes to confront Spike just after become visable. PLEASE R&R!!!


WHAT YOU FEEL  
  
~RaB~  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything bladdie bladdie blah, they all belong to Joss and Co. bladdie bladdie blah... but that's okay... in my head, they all belong to me ;-)  
  
Summary: This is just a fic that I oh so randomly came up while riding on the bus to school (a word to the wise: don't ask). Anyway, it's a somewhat angsty, somewhat romantic fic that takes place season 6 between "Gone" and "DMP". I hope you enjoy!!!  
  
Spoilers: Not really, unless you haven't seen season 6  
  
Reviews: Oh God yes! And you can give me flames if you wants. I'd just delete them anyway... BWAHAHAHAHA!!!  
  
~*~  
  
Spike bathed in the euphoric feeling of the cigarette smoke washing over his tongue and throat and lungs. He exhaled softly into the night air and watched the smoke swirl into the night air, making whirling designs and patterns. After a few moments, however, the clouds of smoke twisted and writhed away until they could no longer be seen. Spike sighed heavily and tossed his cigarette butt into the grass before putting it out with his heel. He took one last look around, hoping to sense a vampire or some other baddie making trouble so that he could beat the shit out of it... but he had no such luck, so he decided to just go inside and make a drink for himself.  
  
The blonde vampire opened the door of his small refrigerator and pulled out a carton of orange juice and a bottle of vodka. He hummed "Lithium" to himself as he set up a glass and mixed the two liquids together, not at all going light on the vodka. He had had a rough day. Not that he didn't enjoy Buffy, or the sex that came with Buffy, but he hated the feeling of having her, but not really having her. Now he know how sodding captain cardboard felt, and God was it awful! Maybe Riley hadn't had the better deal. That feeling of having her beneath him, of being inside of her, having the scent of her surround him... but he knew, in the end, he didn't really have her at all. It was torture.  
  
And he knew how it was killing him inside.  
  
Funny enough, though, Spike couldn't seem to care. He would think of himself and then remember that everything he did, everything he was doing, was for her. Like she sang, she just wanted to feel, and Spike knew he would do everything in his power to make that happen. But something about today was different.  
  
This time, when she came to him, she was really, really gone. He could smell her, and he could taste her lips, but she was just... gone. And it terrified him. Of course he was able to cover it up with smart quips and sarcastic remarks, as well as other talents, but he could feel himself losing her. The deeper he fell into Buffy, the more he felt like she wasn't really there. And it just hit him that he had to stop, that she couldn't be there and not even be there in any way at all. The thought of losing her again, the thought of her getting lost was worse in his mind than any other horrible thing that he could even imagine happening to himself. So of course, he did what he could to save her from losing herself, and he told her that she had to go.  
  
But she came back... like always.  
  
Spike felt her approaching yards before she even reached his door. It was no surprise to him when she stopped outside and stood outside for what must have been at least ten minutes. He could even picture her in his head, debating whether or not to go inside. Spike snorted a dry, sardonic laugh as he heard the door squeak open behind him. He placed his screwdriver on top of the stone sarcophagus and turned around slowly to find Buffy standing bashfully in the middle of his crypt.  
  
"Well, well, well," he spoke his words to her as smoothly as he could so as to hide the excitement of seeing her. "Look who's all visible again, it's a good look on you. I'm figuring Xander and the lot fixed you up."  
  
She shrugged at him. "In appearance, at least," she muttered softly.  
  
"Come now, Buffy, you needn't speak in riddles with me," he informed her kindly as he looked her up and down. It was nice to see her again, to really see her. And he immediately, of course, noticed the significant different in the length of her hair.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Buffy furrowed her brow. "Excuse me?"  
  
He took a few cautious steps forward until he was standing no more than a foot away from her. "You're hair," he began as he lifted a hand to brush a few short strands out of her eyes. She flinched reflexively at his touch which made Spike jerk his hand away from her face.  
  
"Your hair," he repeated, "if I hadn't said anything about it... Goldilocks... you wouldn't've cut it. I know that."  
  
"Oh," she replied softly, her cheeks turning a slight pink. "Actually, it was probably the only thing that kept me from taking the scissors to my wrists... after everything that happened with the Social Services lady this morning..."  
  
"Oh, right," Spike said, suddenly remembering what had occurred just before he left her house. "Did everything... Is Dawn..."  
  
"It's fine," Buffy told him, recognizing the immediate look of worry on his face. "I took care of it."  
  
"Oh, right, then. Because, I mean, you know that I didn't mean to. you know how I... about Dawn..."  
  
Buffy smiled gently at him and nodded. "I know."  
  
"Good, just, wanted to make sure is all."  
  
"Spike, you can care about my sister without giving up your big bad image. I won't tell a soul."  
  
Spike smirked at her. "That's fine. I just don't want Xander to be calling me the big bad babysitter again is all..."  
  
Buffy stifled an amused laugh. "He called you that?"  
  
"No..." Spike lied as he was sure that he would be turning bright red just then if he could. He was about to make a clever retort as he always did when realized that he was just digging himself into a deeper and deeper hole of pain and despair. He was setting himself up to be hurt by her again and this time he would make the conscious decision not to let her. He knew what she was there for, so what couldn't they just skip the pleasantries.  
  
"So, I'm figurin' you aren't here for the small talk, love."  
  
Buffy licked her lips and avoided Spike's eyes as she took a few steps toward him so that their bodies were just barely touching. She put her left hand on his right shoulder and her other hand on the back of his neck.  
  
"There was this Slayer once, and she told me want..." She trailed off as she placed gentle kisses from his chin up his very defined jawbone, "take..." she continued her way up his face and nibbled on his ear for a moment before pulling back just far enough so that she could look into his deep, sapphire eyes, "have."  
  
Buffy leaned in to place her lips upon Spike's, but just before they reached their destination the vampire turned his face to the side and sighed loudly. Buffy was shocked to find her mouth against the cool flesh of his cheek rather than where she had meant for them to go.  
  
"No," Spike said suddenly and firmly.  
  
"No?" Buffy mocked his command. "What... what's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing," he lied, "I mean. Everything. Everything about this is wrong."  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes and grinned. "Isn't that what you like about it?"  
  
"Yes... no... I'm not sure... Buffy," he sighed again as he took her hands from his neck and shoulder, "I love you. I love you so much, but if I want to have you, I want to have all of you."  
  
Buffy groaned as her hands drooped to her sides. "This again," she stated angrily before running her fingers through her shorter, darker hair. She was getting frustrated and she didn't have time for playing games. She knew what she wanted and god dammit! Spike was not going to stand in the way of her getting what she wanted.  
  
"Look, Spike, it's now or never okay so can we just-"  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, interrupting her mid-sentence.  
  
Buffy exhaled heavily though her nose and decided to just tell him and get it over with. "I'm applying for a job at the Doublemeat Palace on Monday, and if I get it, I don't know what kind of hours I'm gonna be working, so I don't know if I'll have time to just... you know?"  
  
"Wait, the Doublemeat Palace?"  
  
"Yes, and don't you dare laugh!"  
  
"I wasn't plannin' on it, love. But why there? You'll be so unhappy there if you-"  
  
"Don't!" She commanded him angrily as tears filled her eyes. "Don't even start on that. Please don't make this any harder than it already is, Spike. I need to do this."  
  
"No, you don't," he told her firmly but warmly. He cautiously put his hands up and rested them on her upper arms. He waited for her to flinch or jerk them off and when she didn't, he let his palms settle on her arms.  
  
"Let me take care of you," he asked of her with honest, gentle eyes that made Buffy weak at the knees.  
  
"I can't let you," she breathed as tears fell steadily from her eyes. "I can't let you because I have to be a grown up now. I have to take care of Dawn."  
  
"Let me do that for you Buffy. I love you and Dawn so much, I just want to take care of you, Buffy."  
  
"I don't. I don't want that from you. You want to help me?" She choked a violent sob as she shook his hands off of her. It took Spike by such surprise when he felt her fist connect with his jaw. He fell back and landed against a pillar in the center of the crypt. His eyes filled with angry and hurt tears as he clenched his aching jaw.  
  
"Why?" Ha asked, "why won't you just let me love you? I don't want anything from you in return and still you do this!"  
  
Buffy shook her head angrily at him. She hated the way he was making her feel. The warmth, the freedom, the love... it was nothing she deserved and yet she was getting all of it from... Spike? This was wrong, it had to be wrong, and she was going to let him know just how wrong he was.  
  
"I hate you," she told him coldly. "I hate everything you are, everything that you do. You are everything I am supposed to hate. How dare you say that you love me? How dare you? You think you know what it is to feel? You think you know what love is? You poor, sick, fuck."  
  
Spike ran at Buffy with a sudden quickness that caught her off guard. He grabbed her arms hard and shook her violently.  
  
"I know what it is to feel because I feel it all for you!" He yelled in her face. More tears poured from her eyes as she shook her head.  
  
"Don't," she begged him, "please don't tell me you love me. I can't hear it. I can't hear that you love me. It makes everything harder."  
  
Spike was at a loss for words or actions or even thoughts. He followed his instincts, though it may not have been the smartest thing to do. He crashed his lips upon hers and forced his tongue into her mouth. There was some resistance at first, but it only took seconds for her body to relax into his and for her lips to part, letting him in. She let him taste her, taste her world. She was sweet like honey and blood, while he tasted to her like cigarettes and lemons. But bitterness always seemed to be her favorite flavor.  
  
Spike pulled his mouth off of the slayer's and she opened her blurry, tear- filled eyes and looked at him to see that he had tears of his own.  
  
"Did you feel that?" He asked her, as they both panted for air. "Did you feel me feel that?"  
  
Buffy shook her head. "I don't know... what you feel."  
  
She lifted her hand gently up to his face and ran her thumb softly over his chiseled cheekbone as the other fingers stroked his latest bruise.  
  
"I'm sorry," she breathed helplessly. "I don't mean to-"  
  
"Don't explain yourself to me," Spike told her as he pulled her small frame closer to him. He swam in the feeling of her as she rested her head upon his chest.  
  
"I'm just so tired, Spike. I don't know what to do."  
  
"Please," he asked her one final time, "let me take care of you."  
  
Buffy buried her face in his chest and inhaled the scent of smoke and leather. She knew she would regret what she was about to do but most of her just couldn't seem to care. He wanted to take care of her and she wanted to be taken care of. She desperately needed to be taken care of.  
  
"All right," she agreed, "but just for tonight."  
  
"Right, then," he smiled at her, "just for tonight."  
  
~*~  
  
*THE END*  
  
~*~ 


End file.
